


drapetomania

by zora (nico_neo)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Truckers, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Hitchhiking, How Do I Tag, Loneliness, M/M, Sakusa Kiyoomi-centric, Travel, hitchhiker atsumu, truck driver sakusa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26160886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nico_neo/pseuds/zora
Summary: drapetomania (n.): an overwhelming urge to run awayKiyoomi runs away. Atsumu is searching for his own path.They find each other on the way.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 117





	drapetomania

**Author's Note:**

> I... really dunno what that is. I was watching this truck delivery show and my brain went : sakusa truck driver, atsumu hitchhiker brrrrrr
> 
> Yeah... I don't even know what the plot is. Is there even a plot? Is the fact I used a Rammstein song as a plot device considered plot? @_@
> 
> Also, I tried something different with this one by writing in present tense! and i dunno if i like it better or not at all lmaoo
> 
> Possible TW! mention and description of smoking!
> 
> Here's the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1XvrDnUajm2tAyaNZ325PX?si=1uEm6IfkReqjZ7saBJCz_Q)  
> for this fic 
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Kiyoomi knows he is going to regret his decision. He knows it. But, see, he isn’t an asshole. He doesn’t like when people come in his space, yes, because people are _dirty_ and they would soil his living area that he spends long minutes cleaning everyday. But, he likes to think he isn’t a _complete_ asshole. Or, at least less of an asshole that the fellow truck driver that just harshly turned down the poor hitchhiker - well, Kiyoomi assumes it is a hitchhiker - who just asked him for a ride. Sure, truck drivers have other things to think about than a guy with a bag bigger than him on his back, and asking to get to one point to another, possibly for free. But, there were manners about turning down someone. And Kiyoomi knows it isn’t the first time the blonde dude has been turned down today - politely or harshly - by other truck drivers, because he has seen _everything_. Four times. Kiyoomi thinks he could put the guy out of his misery.

“Where do you need to be dropped off at?” he asks while coming at the level of the unknown hitchhiker, in perfect English. Because that’s what leaving Japan and pacing up and down Europe’s highways, doing deliveries from firms to firms or from private individuals to private individuals, does to you.

The blonde man turns back hurriedly to look at him. Dark golden eyes fall on Kiyoomi’s ink ones. The guy is probably his age, maybe a bit older or younger, he doesn’t know. But he surveys Kiyoomi warily for a second, and really, the trucker can’t really blame him. He would probably do the same if some random dude was coming to him asking where he needed to be dropped, after being flipped off four times in a row on a shitty lay-by on the road to Berlin. 

“Well,” the guy starts, with a little accent in his English that makes Kiyoomi tick on something. “Berlin would be my priority. If I can get there… I’ll find what to do.”

Kiyoomi hums. He looks at the hitchhiker up and down. His bag is huge, but he can fit it somewhere in his sleeper box, probably. He seems clean too… It was the morning, he might have taken a shower in the service station’s showers, just like Kiyoomi did. 

Instead of answering, Kiyoomi just turns around, ready to get back on the road. “I hope you’re clean.”

There is a little silence before he hears footsteps coming after him. “Wait, that means I can go with you?”

  
  
  


The guy’s name is Atsumu, he learns eventually. And Kiyoomi can freely say it now. 

Atsumu is a fucking pain in the ass.

They have switched to Japanese rather than English when Kiyoomi has asked the other if he was from Japan as well, and really, he _shouldn’t_ have done that. Because Atsumu wasn’t shutting up now. His Kansai dialect makes it even worse.

“Ya sleep in ‘here? How do ya even fit?” he says, trying to settle his fucking huge backpack in Kiyoomi’s sleeping box. “Yer taller than me and I can’t even pass my head through, Omi-kun.”

Oh, yeah. Atsumu has decided they are friends now, apparently, and has given him a surname. Kiyoomi _hates_ it. He _hates_ being nice. He should have been an asshole. 

When Atsumu _finally_ settles, he looks at Kiyoomi with a beaming smile. Kiyoomi just huffs and focuses on the road once again. But it’s a bit hard with the human dynamo next to him.

“Can’t you stay still?” Kiyoomi grunts. He can feel the headache coming.

“Nah,” Atsumu only answers. “Because there are no plug-ins in yer truck Omi-Omi.” He is holding his phone in one hand and his charger in the other. And he is squirming on the passenger seat, searching for the plug in. There _are_ plug-ins in his truck. But that doesn’t mean Kiyoomi is willing for Atsumu to use them.

“Why do you need a plug-in?” Kiyoomi asks, giving a look in his wing mirror when a car passed them. 

“I didn’t get to charge my phone at the station,” Atsumu explains. His face looks like a kicked puppy. “I was hopin’ that if a nice trucker could give me a ride I could charge it, but apparently not.” he pouts.

“Too bad, then.”

Atsumu, for God’s honesty, _whines_ next to him. Kiyoomi wonders if it’s a human or a puppy he has taken in. It’s not even nine in the morning, and Kiyoomi already regrets everything. He opens the hidden hatch above the control panel, revealing two plug-ins and Kiyoomi’s own phone, charging. Atsumu gasps.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?!”

Kiyoomi regrets everything.

  
  


He regrets even more the moment Atsumu gets a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and he almost causes an accident because he had been _this close_ to slam on the breaks in the middle of the highway. He frowns at the hitchhiker. 

“What the hell?” 

“What?” Atsumu echoes, cigarette already in between his lips. “Oh, my bad! I smoke, do you mind?”

“Actually, yes.”

Atsumu was definitely not expecting this answer because he stops everything. Kiyoomi wonders if he stopped breathing too. His brows were furrowed now. 

“I hate the smell,” Kiyoomi explains. Giving an explanation on why was the least he could do, he thinks. “And if you smoke here, it’ll _stick_ in the cabin, and it’s going to smell _horrendous_ and I will spend _days_ trying to get rid of the smell but I will still know it has been here and I’ll know it’s _dirty_ -”

“Alright,” Atsumu cuts him off, softly. “I get it, really. I should have asked first.”

And, just like that, he puts the cigarette he had in between his lips back in the pack and then puts it back in his pocket and settles comfortably again in the passenger seat. Kiyoomi almost forgets to watch the road. Atsumu looks at him.

“What?” he asks. “You’re already takin’ me in - for which I’m grateful, by the way. I won’t go like I own the place and make ya uncomfortable. It’s your livin’ area.”

It’s ten and four minutes in the morning, and Kiyoomi thinks that Atsumu is quite unusual. 

  
  


At ten and forty two minutes in the morning, Atsumu complains.

“Don’t ya have anything else than sad songs, Omi-kun?” he groans, resting his head against the window Kiyoomi has cleaned the night before.

“They’re not sad songs,” Kiyoomi retorts. “It’s just calmer than whatever you might listen to.”

“And what do ya think I listen to, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu grins. He reminds Kiyoomi of a fox.

“I don’t know,” the driver answers honestly. He looks back at the road in front of him, ready to pass the slower truck in front of him. “Probably rock.”

Atsumu hums next to him, bobbing his head a bit. He makes an approving face. “I like rock, yeah.” He turns towards Kiyoomi, even though the truck driver isn’t looking at him, concentrating on his task. “I like old songs too, though.”

“Like what?” Kiyoomi asks. Just to make conversation, not because he is particularly curious.

“I like The Rembrandts,” Atsumu muses. “Actually I like a lot of songs but not necessarily the artist so it doesn’ count.” he says, nose scrunched. He really reminds Kiyoomi of a fox. That was a bit cute. “My favourite, though,” Atsumu helds a finger at him, a proud smile on his face. “is Michael Jackson.”

Kiyoomi nods. “I like him too.”

“Then if you like sad songs, listen to _his_ Omi-Omi!” he whines again. “I’m tired of Evanescence.”

“It was one song.”

“It was fuckin’ depressing!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t change his playlist.

  
  


They stop at a service station around noon. Atsumu was getting restless and Kiyoomi was getting unfocused. Berlin is still a two days trip away, he needs the strength. Not necessarily for the road, but to keep up with Atsumu for two more days. He’s not a bad guy, just a little bit annoying. He’s not bad, per say. Kiyoomi actually finds him nice. When he shuts up. 

“I’m starvin’!” Atsumu whines, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

Does this guy ever stop whining?

Kiyoomi doesn’t answer and simply proceeds to stretch, instead. He lifts his arms above him and pulls until he hears a little pop in his back. He smooths his shirt correctly when he’s done. Atsumu is looking at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

Atsumu doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks at Kiyoomi’s abdomen, then at his own, then back at Kiyoomi, in the eyes this time. “How?”

“How what?” 

“Yer six pack, Omi!” Atsumu cries. He points at the driver’s shirt. “What’s even yer secret? I can’t believe it.”

Kiyoomi just raises an eyebrow. What is up with this guy? And he doesn’t even have a six pack to begin with, what the hell?

“Ya can’t have those _abs_ when yer sittin’ all the time and drivin’,” Atsumu adds, as if it was proving the point he was trying to make. 

“You’re sounding ridiculous.” Kiyoomi simply answers, slipping out of the truck.

“It’s not ridiculous!” Atsumu retorts, following him inside the service station.

When they sit down at a table and Atsumu dives on his plate of fries, Kiyoomi points it at him.

“That’s the reason why. I don’t eat those.”

“A plate of fries is cheaper than the fancy ass sandwich yer eatin’, sorry to be broke.” Atsumu complains, munching on a mouthful of french fries. Kiyoomi thinks he’s ridiculous. He smiles, his shoulders shaking from silent laughter as he looks outside while Atsumu keeps pouting.

  
  


Trying to fit two grown men in a sleeping box only meant for one is… an interesting experience. Kiyoomi has barely any living space and he’s going to knock Atsumu out if the other doesn’t stop _moving_.

“Can you stop?” Kiyoomi grunts, dodging Atsumu’s elbow before taking it to the face.

“Ya should have listened to me when I said it would have been easier if we cuddled!”

“I’m not cuddling with you, what the hell?”

“It would be more comfortable!”

Finally, after ten minutes, Atsumu eventually settles. His back was against Kiyoomi and he had put his enormous backpack on the passenger seat. Kiyoomi thinks he will finally be able to rest, when Atsumu speaks.

“Isn’t it lonely?”

“What?”

“Driving alone, all the time,” Atsumu explains. “Don’t ya feel lonely?”

Kiyoomi never really thought about the question before. Is he lonely? It’s not like being with himself all the time is really something he minded. On the contrary, Kiyoomi prefers being alone. He doesn’t support people in the long run. He even wonders how he hasn’t kicked Atsumu yet. He is troubling Kiyoomi’s peace whenever he is talking. He is loud. He faintly smells like cigarettes even though he chews on gum. He’s always bothering him without a stop - unless he has miraculously fallen asleep during the day. So, yeah, Kiyoomi doesn’t miss the company of people that much. But, is he lonely? He has made his choice, hasn’t he? Does that mean he is sad because he has no company, though? Is he lonely?

“Ya shouldn’t always stay alone,” Atsumu says again, and Kiyoomi realizes he was so lost in his thoughts that he hasn’t answered him. “Loneliness isn’t something anyone should go through.”

Kiyoomi wonders if Atsumu is feeling lonely. 

  
  


Atsumu, Kiyoomi learns the next day, has a twin brother. Younger by a few minutes. Atsumu wanted to travel with him, but his twin - Osamu - had decided to stay in Japan, in the end. So, that left Atsumu to pace and discover Europe, alone. 

“What about ya, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu looks at him, an easy smile resting on his face. “Why did ya leave Tokyo?”

Kiyoomi shrugs. “I wanted to experience something different.”

“And what about it?”

The truck driver looks at Atsumu. No tricks in Atsumu’s question, only genuineness. But Kiyoomi couldn’t help but dig up the undertone mischief inside Atsumu’s golden eyes. Because Atsumu is like a fox, after all. Sly.

“I’ve discovered a lot of things,” Kiyoomi answers, looking back at the road, one hand resting on his lap and the other on the steering wheel. “Lots of beautiful countries.” he glances at Atsumu. “I don’t regret my choice.”

Atsumu smiles, smug yet still cunning as he sets back properly into his seat. “I still don’t think ya should stay alone all the time.”

Just like the honey dripping from his voice, Kiyoomi feels Atsumu’s words crawl on his skin as he looks at the hitchhiker again, the glow of the sunset in the horizon reflecting in gold, yellow hair. 

  
  
  


“Why did you decide to hitchhike?” Kiyoomi asks, when they’re settled for sleep, at night. They are both lying on their backs this time. Atsumu has his arms behind his head, surprisingly not elbowing him in the face. Kiyoomi had his hands folded on his stomach, staring at the ceiling of his truck.

“Hm?” utters a sleepy Atsumu.

“Why did you decide to hitchhike?” he repeats. He closes his eyes, they were starting to sting because of the sleepiness. 

“Well,” Atsumu chuckles. It’s soft and almost lulls Kiyoomi to sleep. A complete contrast with how Atsumu acts during the day, where he only gives him headaches. “I didn’t hitchhike from Japan to Europe. Technically, I only became a hitchhiker when I stepped foot in Spain.”

“You could have,” Kiyoomi comments, albeit sluggish. “Hitchhike from Japan to Spain, I mean.”

Atsumu chuckles again, more freely, this time. He sighs. “I was supposed to do the trip with Osamu, like I told ya,” he says. “But, he didn’t come with me in the end. So, that made the budget lower from a half. We wanted to rent some car or some shit like that, at first,” he sighs again, more dreamily this time. Kiyoomi could only imagine the smile on his face. “But then, I found myself alone and thought: why not hitchhike?” The truck driver feels him shrug next to him. Their shoulders brush. “It’s an experience like another. Maybe I was trying to find something too. I don’ know what, but somethin’.”

“I’m surprised nobody taped your mouth or tied you up, yet.” Kiyoomi notes.

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu whines and squirms next to him.

Kiyoomi allows himself to chuckle. “And what about it?” he echoes Atsumu’s question to him from earlier in the day.

“I saw a lot of things,” Atsumu croons. “Met lots of people.”

“Nice people?” Kiyoomi asks, turning his head to look at an also sleepy Atsumu.

“Nice people.” Atsumu nods and turns his head to look back at him. “Except this one guy who doesn’t let me cuddle him so we’ll have _more space_ to sleep.”

Kiyoomi turns on his side with a huff, and if he feels Atsumu’s breath against the skin of his neck, he doesn’t comment or move. 

  
  
  


Berlin stands in front of them in the night sky. The city welcomes them with its colorful red-roofed buildings, illuminated by the moonlight and the serene course of the Spree river around them. Kiyoomi has already been to Berlin, though for a pretty quick trip. He never took time to visit, but he tells himself that, maybe one day. He looks on his right to glance at Atsumu. And he smiles. The hitchhiker literally has stars in his eyes, crouched in his seat to take in his surroundings. His mouth is slightly agape and Kiyoomi wants to comment on it, but he keeps quiet. 

“What’s that big ass tower over ‘here?” Atsumu asks, pointing to the said tower with his index finger. It isn’t hard to miss, it was right in front of them.

“It’s the _Fernsehturm_ Tower,” Kiyoomi answers, shifting to a lower speed on the gearbox. “It’s Berlin’s television transmitter.” he explains. He checks on his left, as he makes the truck turn in that direction, maneuvering it with practice ease. 

Atsumu looks at him in awe. “You’ve already been to Berlin?” he asks.

“Twice, actually,” Kiyoomi acquiesces. “Very brief, though.”

The hitchhiker hums, and nods his head. He turns to look at the city from his seat window again.

“I need to do my delivery first,” the truck driver points out. “I will go past the town center, anyway. Do you mind?”

Atsumu shakes his head at him like Kiyoomi was the crazy one. “‘course not, do yer job Omi-Omi.”

Kiyoomi has long stopped trying to get Atsumu to drop the nickname. To no avail. So, he just lets it go, now. The society he was delivering to wasn’t far from downtown, a little over fifteen minutes. But Kiyoomi had to wait for almost an hour before his truck was empty and ready to go again. His next cargo is tomorrow, at six in the morning. This time, he will leave Berlin for Vienna, in Austria. Not a particularly long delivery, and the schedule is a bit shitty, but at least it was a job. And it’s profitable. 

When he gets in the driver seat again, Atsumu is slumped against the window, looking fast asleep. Kiyoomi starts the engine, ready to go back to the city center, or the closest he can manage with his truck. Once out of the company’s parking lot, he looks at Atsumu again. And he thinks about the question the other asked him, two days ago. _Isn’t it lonely?_

Yes. Yes it is lonely. You’re on the road for days, weeks, months without anyone by your side. You travel by yourself and the only amount of social interaction you get is when you meet your client, or when you buy a sandwich at a service station. But, Kiyoomi chose this. He chose to leave and live like that. For him, it was - it is a better choice than staying in Tokyo, doing studies for a job he doesn’t like in the first place. And, it also means being able to be _alone_. Stay with himself and his mind and his crappy CD compilations. In his truck, Kiyoomi can be himself. In his truck, there are no stares to judge him because of his mysophobia. In his truck, no one is trying to make him fit into a mold. But, in his truck, Kiyoomi is alone. In his truck, Kiyoomi has no friends. Except if that little bouncing plant he has on the board, and that Atsumu seems to love, counts. His phone never rings unless it’s work related. He has no pictures. Only a small one of him and Motoya he keeps in his wallet. But again, Kiyoomi chose this. He chose this life. He decided to run away.

“Yes,” he says in the silence of the truck. Words directed to Atsumu, but the other didn’t hear him. “It’s lonely.”

Yet, Kiyoomi thinks about the last two days, as he looks at Atsumu again. Maybe not travelling alone from time to time isn’t that bad, after all.

  
  
  


Atsumu wakes up when they’re nearing downtown. He blinks sleepily.

“We ‘here yet?” he yawns. He rubs at his eyes with his fingers. Now, he looks more like a cat than a fox. 

“I won’t find a spot to stop at for the night,” Kiyoomi gives as an answer. Years of experience, forget the city center if you want a spot to sleep during the night. “So, we’ll go slightly outside the town and stop at a gas station. I’ll fill up the gas tank tomorrow morning and drop you off in town before going to get my cargo.”

“Ya have another delivery?” Atsumu asks. Kiyoomi nods. “So ya don’t stay in town?”

“I get the cargo at six tomorrow morning,” the truck driver explains. “Then, I’m off to Vienna for a delivery at eight in the morning the next day.”

“Oh,” Atsumu nods. “I see. Damn, so early.”

As Atsumu is still groaning in his hands, Kiyoomi thinks he will slightly miss it. If at night, Atsumu seems closer than he’s ever been against his back, then Kiyoomi doesn’t move. If when Kiyoomi wakes up, at four thirty in the morning, one of Atsumu’s arms is wrapped around his waist, he doesn’t say anything and just untangles himself gently, trying not to wake the sleeping hitchhiker. And if Kiyoomi’s hand has been loosely holding Atsumu’s one, which has been resting on his stomach, then he doesn’t say anything either and grabs his toothbrush and pocket toothpaste and exits the truck.

Atsumu wakes up at a quarter after five, when Kiyoomi is done filling the gas tank. He looks like a kid whose mom has woken up too early to go to school. Except that he has a cigarette clipped in between his lips, and his mouth exhales the white smoke in clouds, making the fog snakes around him. He looks beautiful. 

“Why do I look like shit and ya look great?” he mumbles, voice furred because of sleep and lack of morning clean up. 

“Do you really want me to answer this?” Kiyoomi teases, and puts the gas pump back in his slide. He then rips the plastic gloves off his hands and throws them in the nearest trash bin. 

Atsumu only huffs and enters the gas station shop, surely to get washed up - even though there were no showers, so Kiyoomi hopes he’ll at least wash the necessary - and brush his teeth. When they’re both back in the truck, and heading downtown again, it’s silent. The only noises were the sounds coming from Kiyoomi’s radio. Atsumu isn’t even complaining about his CD compilations.

“That was nice of ya, to take me in.” Atsumu says, when they’re nearing a red light. He looks at Kiyoomi, and smiles. But it lacks his usual beam. It’s tight.

“I just prevented you from getting flicked off again,” Kiyoomi answers. He hopes the teasing made it through. He glances at Atsumu, then back at the road. “Wouldn’t want you to get stuck on a crappy lay-by.”

Atsumu chuckles while shrugging. “I would have found a way.”

“Like what? Walk?”

The hitchhiker shrugs again, a small smile resting on the side of his face. He’s already grabbing his backpack when Kiyoomi pulls to the side, clicking on the warning lights to activate them until Atsumu is out of the truck. The hitchhiker turns to him one last time, one hand resting on the truck’s door, ready to close it, and the other keeping his backpack in place on his shoulder. He smiles at Kiyoomi. This time, it’s more genuine. But it still lacks the familiar mischief. 

“Thanks for the ride, Omi-kun,” Atsumu says. He makes a mocking salute sign with his hand. “It was cool meetin’ ya. Good luck in yer journey.”

Kiyoomi nods, genuinely as well. “Good luck on yours.”

Atsumu bows his head again, and closes the door of the truck. Kiyoomi sees him walking to the closest crosswalk. And the silence downs on him. The truck still smells like Atsumu’s deodorant he puts too much on. He doesn’t start the truck again, right away. Instead, he observes his hands on his lap. He clenches. Then unclenches. It’s silent again. Kiyoomi is alone again. But his truck still smells like Atsumu.

When a car - and then another - honk behind him, hopefully to get him to move his truck again, he takes off his belt and opens the door on his side of the truck. Atsumu just gets on the other side of the road when Kiyoomi puts one foot on the little stairs of his truck, and puts one hand on the frame of the door, and the other grabs his seatbelt as he bends slightly forward, for his voice to carry out in the wind.

“Atsumu!” he calls. The hitchhiker jolts as he comes to a stop and turns to look at him. His face is crunched in confusion and his mouth is open from the surprise. “Do you need a lift to Vienna?”

Atsumu’s smile blinds him when he runs back to the truck and climbs back into it.

His truck still smells like Atsumu. But, this time, Atsumu is seated on the passenger seat next to him. The hitchhiker doesn't even put his seatbelt on, and just stares at Kiyoomi, as the truck driver excuses himself with a sign of his hand and takes the vehicle back on the road again. The beeping sound is starting to get on Kiyoomi’s nerves, but he only looks back at Atsumu curiously. 

“Why?” Atsumu asks as he puts his seatbelt on. The beeping sounds stop. Now, there’s only the sound of the truck’s motor, and Atsumu’s lightly louder breathing from his little run. 

Kiyoomi just shrugs. He looks at Atsumu and raises his eyebrow. “You told me I shouldn’t travel alone, haven’t you?”

Atsumu beams again as a laugh - free, happy - escapes his lips. The rising sun reflects on his already golden hair, and his eyes seem a shade lighter when Kiyoomi looks inside of them. The hitchhiker rummages through his bag, gets something out and then throws the backpack behind him, in the sleeping box.

“Ya know what, that’s actually great, because I bought that this mornin’ but didn’t have any player to put it in.” He says, and showcases the CD in his hand to Kiyoomi, before he slides it into the player.

The first notes of _Deutschland_ from Rammstein start to blast through Kiyoomi’s truck speakers. Kiyoomi laughs when he recognizes the song as Atsumu starts to bob his head up and down, letting out breezes of laughter. After a few seconds, he lowers the volume and looks at Kiyoomi, a smile resting on his lips. It looks like it was stuck here. 

“Remember when I told ya I was searchin’ for something by hitchhikin’?” Atsumu asks. When Kiyoomi nods, he looks at the city basked in the morning sunlight in front of him, as his smile grows slightly. It looks dreamy now, just like Atsumu. “I think I found it.”

When Kiyoomi looks back at the road again - he hasn’t answered Atsumu, he doesn’t need to - he doesn’t mind the faint smell of cigarettes as much as before. 

  
  
  


_travel far enough you meet yourself_

_\- david mitchell_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! \o/
> 
> Comments and kudos are my serotonin boost!
> 
> Now with [art](https://twitter.com/bokutowantsyou/status/1315317230226161665?s=20)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bokutowantsyou)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/bokutowantsyou)  
> 


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